


after

by taylorsdeans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilty Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Men Crying, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorsdeans/pseuds/taylorsdeans
Summary: For as long as Molly Weasley can remember, Harry has always been quiet and closed off. She supposed it was his way of dealing.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Molly Weasley
Kudos: 21





	after

In the following days after the Battle of Hogwarts, Molly's mind only wandered to the full weight of everything she had gone through twice. Her grief for Fred and everything that her family had gone through was the only issue she could process. She couldn't bear to think about anything else, because it was too painful for her to work through. Her family had all suffered a tremendous loss, and it felt like they were falling apart more and more. Ron came down to breakfast with red-rimmed eyes, his shirts more tousled than ever. Percy had nightmares that woke everyone in the middle of the night. George refused to leave his room. He only managed to make it down for meals once a day, and it only ended with him scarfing down a few muffins and then bolting back up to his room. No matter how many times she tried to comfort them, it never felt like enough.

And then there was Harry. The poor boy wasn't sleeping well at all. Right after visiting the headmaster's office, Harry had headed straight for bed, which resulted in a two-day slumber. He only awoke when Ginny had gone up to help him clean himself up. Harry had met Molly down in the Gryffindor common room, where she had immediately started to fuss over the state of his hair. He had given her a small smile and walked silently back to the Great Hall with her to accompany the rest of the family home.

The only time she ever really saw Harry anymore was when he came back for dinner. His heart was set on fixing the World, and especially Hogwarts. Molly knew, she knew, that Hogwarts was the first home Harry truly ever had, knowing that the Dursley's didn't really seem ever to have been the best company. She knew that it was good he wasn't wallowing, but her concerns over him only got worse as she saw him coming back, day by day, looking more exhausted than she had ever seen him. He was still only seventeen, and the amount of work he was doing wasn't normal. The boy deserved a break after having suffered through seven years of horrors and tragedies.

When she voiced this to him, he gave her a tight smile and told her he was fine. She doubted it but found it was easier just to leave him be. He was in good hands. She knew Shacklebolt was a fine wizard and that Hogwarts was the safest place for him to be at the moment. But at some point, she just wanted him to slow down and breathe for a second. It felt like he wasn't allowing himself any time to process what had happened to him. She had felt much the same during Harry's 4th year, where he had been forced to fight in a grueling tournament that could take the fire out of a fully grown wizard, much less a 14-year-old boy. His silent battle not to succumb to his tears had broken her heart. She could not let him go through that again.

Molly was a worrier, and that has never changed. When Ron was sick at age six, she had almost worried herself to an ulcer, even as Arthur had said he would be fine. She couldn't just watch her boy suffer; she couldn't. Even after he got better, Molly sat him down and checked his temperature everyday for three weeks afterwards. Ron had been most displeased every time she told this story to the neighbors or really anyone who would listen, but Molly was oddly comforted by the story. 

She knew that Harry wasn't her son. She could never replace his parents. Lily and James Potter deserved a life with their son, and Harry deserved to grow up with his real parents. But she knew that he couldn't, and that made everything 100 times worse. Molly wanted to reach out to the boy as much as she could, knowing that he probably needed a huge amount of support. When you're that young, forced to deal with that amount of trauma and pain and loneliness, you need someone there. Molly wished that could be her, with everything within her. She just wanted to reach out and give him a hug. But she knew he would never accept it. He was too noble for his own good, the poor child. 

Harry returned from wherever he went to promptly at eleven o'clock. Molly knew it was late, but she let him be. Today was different, however. She had not had a good day. Thoughts of Fred plagued her mind as she bustled around the house, working. No matter how much she worked, she couldn't seem to stop the thoughts. Dinner had been a subdued affair that night. She couldn't bear to try to make conversation with anyone in her family. It felt like Fred's ghost haunted them, no matter what they did. She so desperately wished for him to be here, smiling and cracking jokes with George, his arm around Ginny's shoulders.

The door clanged open with a croak and made Molly jump. She suddenly realized that everyone had already left the table, leaving her with the dirty dishes and half-drunken glasses of water scattered around the table. She looked up to see Harry standing there awkwardly; his cloak slung around his shoulder. He looked tired, there were huge bags under his eyes, and he had a smudge of dirt under his cheek. 

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," He said in a small voice.

"Hello, dear," 

She couldn't look up at him anymore. Her head was in her hands, and she rubbed her aching temples, trying to find the strength to clean up after everybody. A shift in the chairs told her that Harry had sat down.

"Mrs. Weasley, are you alright?” He asked in a soft but wavering tone.

Molly didn't look at him for a while, but when she spoke, it was in a calm voice.

"No," She said simply.

Harry had taken a deep breath and was shifting in his chair, obviously nervous and confused.

"I - I"m sorry,"

"It's not your fault,"

"It feels like it is,"

Molly looked up at him. His green eyes were glistening, and he hastily looked away from her, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He suddenly looked so young. Too young to have been pressured by all of this. Too young to have watched so many people die. Too young to have been forced to die for the wizarding world. Too young to feel so alone in the world.

Without even thinking it through, she pulled him into her arms. At first, his arms lay limply at his side, not knowing where to put them; but slowly, he found his way and gripped her upper shoulders tightly, as if telling her not to let go. Hot tears splashed out of Molly's eyes as she held him. She couldn't stop thinking about Fred, as she cried. Harry was shaking too, too exhausted to even pretend anymore. He kept whispering, "I'm sorry," every few seconds, and every time he did, Molly would tighten her grip ever so slightly.

It could have been a few hours or a few years, but they broke apart. Harry looked as if he had needed this for a while. Molly smiled at him, wiping the tears off of her face as she did so. She couldn't help but love him. He had no other family, and it was her job to provide him with that family. 

"Thank you," Harry said in a low voice. The last of his tears had seemed to stop before they broke apart, but his eyes were still red-rimmed and his glasses were askew on his face.

"Harry dear, never thank me for providing you with something everyone deserves." She said, patting his knee.

When Harry had finally gone up to the bed, Molly sighed and shifted in her seat. She started to pick up the leftover dishes and forks, throwing them into the sink and letting her wand do the rest of the work. As she stared at the self-washing plates, she thought of her family and everything they had been through. Fred was still a scar that could be seen in all of their faces, including Harry's, but Molly could see the light at the end of the tunnel. They were going to be okay. They HAD to be okay. The Wizarding World needed them to be, and Molly had always been a giver.

**Author's Note:**

> characters are not mine !! also i don’t support the terf


End file.
